


Dying In Your Arms

by dametokillfor



Series: I Love Rock and Roll [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: He needs to slip away from under the strong arm, wrapped around his waist and fluffy hair tickling his chin. The warm breath across his chest and the sweet smile on his bedmates face. He looks so peaceful, so happy like this. Leonard needs to climb out of bed, shower and get out.---xIn which Leonard is allergic to feelings, and Ray is allergic to mornings.





	Dying In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Well _shit._
> 
> Title from Trivium.
> 
> Set long before Legion of Sunshine.

He needs to get up. 

 

He needs to slip away from under the strong arm, wrapped around his waist and fluffy hair tickling his chin. The warm breath across his chest and the sweet smile on his bedmates face. He looks so peaceful, so happy like this. Leonard needs to climb out of bed, shower and get out. 

 

Really, he should have left last night, got his rocks off, and got out. 

 

He shouldn’t have given into big brown puppy dog eyes, or a soft voice telling him cab tariffs go up after midnight in the UK as if he couldn’t afford it. He shouldn’t have given into the desire to spend a few more moments together.

 

This is supposed to be casual, convenient and easy. Two people who know the others dangerous queer secret. Two people who can find what they need in each other’s bodies and not have to worry about non-disclosure agreements, payoffs, and frantic agents. It’s nothing more than that. 

 

He should have left. 

 

Raymond snuffles against his chest, and resumes his soft snoring. Leonard finds himself smiling in spite of himself. 

 

Maybe two more minutes. 

 

He peers over the mop of black hair, to see the time. 5.17AM. Make it 3 minutes. Always get up on a round number. 

 

It’s 5.19AM when Raymond stirs, humming low and tightening his grip on Leonard. He rests his head atop his shoulder, and presses an awkward kiss to his neck. 

 

“It’s too early.” He whimpers. 

 

Leonard wants to believe he just means to be awake, not the other thing. He’s pretty certain it’s both. Leonard can’t afford it to be both. 

 

“It’s nearly 9.30 at home.” Leonard counters, “At night.”

 

“Don’t care.” Raymond replies. 

 

“How do you survive your heavy partying, Hollywood playboy lifestyle?”

 

“Crack, mostly.” Raymond teases. 

 

He can hear the soft amusement in Raymond’s voice. The boy has never touched anything stronger than Tylenol in his life. 

 

“I also hide in the rooms with the giant antique aquariums, and talk to the fish.” 

 

Leonard isn’t certain that one is a joke. He can just imagine his friend, having in depth conversations with tropical fish, telling them how much he loves their fixtures and wow, is that  _ Hogwarts _ ? 

 

“I don’t have a giant antique aquarium.” 

 

Leonard doesn’t know what made him say that. He’s not about to invite Raymond to any of his rockstar parties. He knows a guitarist who’d try to eat the boy alive, several other men who’d turn their nose up at someone so clean cut, and then there’s his own band. The Legion would hate him. 

 

“Neither do I.” Raymond sounds a little sad, and oh God, now Leonard wants to buy him an aquarium for his birthday. He knows it’s coming up pretty soon, and oh, he knows too much. 

 

He needs to leave, but Raymond’s warmth is intoxicating, and for once, the cool air outside the bed feels harsh and unwelcoming. 

 

“You’re thinking too loud.” Raymond tells him, rubbing slow circles against his stomach, “Stop thinking.” 

 

“I need to go.” Leonard repeats, even as he leans into Raymond’s soft touch. 

 

“No.” Raymond sounds like a petulant child, and Leonard isn’t melting. He shouldn’t be charmed by that, by this adorable Hollywood brat. 

 

“Raymond.” 

 

“ _ Please? _ ” Raymond slips his arm back around Leonard, fingers gripping tightly to his hip, and head nuzzling closer to his chest.

 

He wants to quip about how cute Raymond is when he begs, or about flashbacks to last night, but the words die on his tongue. 

 

Raymond sounds so desperate, so needy. He’s clinging to him like a limpet, and he sounds like Leonard leaving would kill him, like his very heart would be ripped from his chest and _ shit _ , this isn’t supposed to be like that. 

 

And Leonard isn’t supposed to feel the same. 

 

He wants to speak but isn’t sure the words will come out as words. Jesus, what is wrong with him?

 

Raymond finally opens his eyes and looks up at him, and a traitorous voice in the back of his head, one that sounds like his best friend whispers  _ you’re falling in love, dumbass _ . 

 

Raymond’s smile is slow and sleepy, as he pushes himself up and leans in to kiss Leonard. There’s morning breath and it should be gross, but Leonard can’t bring himself to hate it. Ray lifts the hand gripping Leonard’s hip to cup his face. He barely pulls away as the kiss is broken, just pulls back far enough to whisper against Leonard’s lips. 

 

“Mmm, I like how you look in the morning.” Raymond tells him, “Even if it’s a terrible time of morning, which I don’t think can even be called morning.”

 

“5.30 isn’t that bad.” Leonard counters.

 

“Yeah, if I’ve not gone to bed.”

 

Raymond flops back down on the bed, rolls onto his side to look at Leonard better. 

 

“Netflix?” Leonard asks, mirroring Raymond’s position. They’re not touching, but it feels closer, even more intimate. Leonard can feel the warmth coming off him, his words are brushing just over Raymond’s lips. 

 

“Or Magic.” 

 

“Nerd.”

 

Keep the jokes up. Leonard can do that. Make jokes, tease him, don’t let him see how soft you are on him. Raymond just grins, totally unapologetic about who he is, and Leonard can’t help but smile back,  _ really _ smile. 

 

“Just a little longer?” Raymond asks again, disarming him. 

 

Leonard huffs a low laugh, lets a soft  _ fuck _ slip out. 

 

“We can do that.” Raymond offers.

 

Leonard thinks it’s supposed to sound light and breezy, a quick retort to Leonard’s exasperation. Instead it sounds desperate, like he’s trading sex for just a little more closeness. 

 

Raymond sounds, shit,  _ is, _ as fucked as Leonard is and Leonard should tell him that. 

 

He should tell him that he doesn’t want a trade off. He should tell him that he’s in too deep too, and he doesn’t want to leave either, that he’s in love with Raymond’s bedhead, and the sleepy lilt to his rich voice, and that he’s scared out of his goddamn mind, because this is a  _ big fucking deal _ .

 

But he  _ wants _ to run, to hide from the world and push these feelings down as far as they will go, smother them with bourbon and a pretty face.

 

He wants to forget he ever met Raymond Palmer at that shitty dive bar, wants to forget the ugly beanie covering his iconic fluffy hair, wants to forget the way they laughed over a bottle of Jim Beam, and stood a little too close. He wants to forget the way drunk Raymond kissed him as soon as they were in the dark alley behind the club, the way he babbled and begged him not to tell anyone, the way he melted when Leonard pulled him in for another kiss and whispered _yeah,_ _me too, Raymond_. 

 

And then he never wants to forget a moment he’s spent with him, a single stolen glance across the room, the texts from Rae, to Lena. He doesn’t want to forget a single second of the six months they’ve been doing this dance. 

 

He looks to Raymond then, sees those big wide eyes, reddened and hopeful. He wants to slip his hand into that thick, brown mop, and pull him into a kiss, tell him maybe another half hour won’t hurt.

 

_ Fuck,  _ does he want to.

 

\---x

 

(It’s 9.25AM by the time Leonard finally extricates himself from the clutches of a laughing Ray.  _ Always _ get up on a round number.) 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come squee with me on [Tumblr](http://damnstevens.tumblr.com).


End file.
